(no subject)
4/15/07 05:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating:2
Summary: this is all there is of this AU, there ain’t no more
A big thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
danceswithgary, for holding my hand through crazy parts. Thanks also for providing the wonderful art for each section, it added so much to each new chapter, and they were as important as the words.
A big thank you todigitalwave for the absolutely beautiful art for the end of part one—This Is Where I Died Everytime I look at it, I get all watery.
He worked through his chores, the whole time thinking about the piece of odd metal shoved in the back of his desk drawer. Maybe he should wait until Lex came home before he dealt with it…he wondered if he should talk to his parents…what would happen if he returned the piece of metal to the ship? Was it a key? An instruction book? What if it opened and he…changed form, from a human looking thing to a…Thing? What if it told him to take over the world—or god forbid—made him impregnate all the women with his alien sperm?
“Ick.” He shuddered, snorted at the image of himself running all over Smallville, trying to talk the girls into having sex with him…him lying back and thinking of--what—Alien Overlord and country? He snickered, until the thought that it was a very real possibility sobered him, and sighed.
Maybe he was just over-thinking it. Maybe all that happened would be as simple as an explanation why. Why his birthparents sent him away. Why he was the way he was.
He trudged back to the house to shower, thought, ‘what if…what if nothing happened?’
What then?
Back in the house, he showered and held a shouted conversation through the door with his sister, who demanded to know was he brushing his teeth—he had to open the door and show her a mouth full of foam. She followed him down the hallway, waited with philosophical resignation when the door was closed in her face. She sighed, and he could see her resting against the door, kicking her heel on the carpet as she continued the conversation they’d been having….
He dressed, let her in his room and then he had a lesson in how to brush his hair. He was pretty darn thankful to be invulnerable. He was certain an average human would have been knocked unconscious. He made her promise, in exchange for pancakes, not to brush Mom or Dad’s hair.
She thought that was pretty funny.
He made her heart-shaped pancakes, and dribbled syrup smiley faces across them. She looked at him in wonder. “You are a good cook, Clark. Just like Mommy. Will you make pancakes for Lex when he comes?”
“I’m sorry, kiddo, Lex isn’t coming today.”
Her face fell, and Clark wanted to hug her, he knew just how she felt. “I’m going to marry Lex,” she said. “He’s so pretty.”
“Really? You think so?” He grinned and put the mixing bowls and whisk in the sink, wrapped up and set aside pancakes for his mom and dad. He made himself a cup of coffee and turned back to Kala.
“Yes, when I’m all grown-up I will…you can marry him too, if you want. We can all be married together.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “Mommy and Daddy will have to get a new house. We’ll need this one.”
He choked a little, biting his lip hard to keep from laughing. Kala ignored his frantic efforts not to laugh or drown in coffee—she was chewing pancakes serenely, every inch the queen of the household. He poured a glass of milk for her, and kissed the top of her head.
“I love you, you know that?”
She nodded. Of course he did.
*****
They went out to the garden, and he spread a blanket on the grass, gave Kala her coloring books and crayons. His mom waved at him from the lettuce. “Thanks hon. Did she eat?”
He nodded and walked over to where she stood on the garden path. He stopped and just…looked at her until she laughed. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?”
He shook his head. “No…I just want you to know that I really love you. And I’m grateful you’re my mom.”
“Well! And I didn’t even make breakfast,” she said, and then stopped. “Clark…is something bothering you?” She stepped forward, wiping her hand across the back of one cheek, and smearing a little soil there.
“Nothing Mom, everything is fine—everything’s great,” he smiled, and wiped her cheek, gave her a little kiss. “Everything’s great, really.”
*******
“Dad?”
“Clark.” His dad was staring into the guts of an old tractor, a look on his face that promised mayhem if it didn’t come back to life, and soon. There were engine parts in a pan on the tractor shed floor, and his dad was mangling a rag in his hands.
“Having fun?” Clark asked, and his dad scowled at him…and then laughed.
“Yes. Darn tractor.” Clark looked over on the work bench, and saw an open shipping box.
“Ah, so the parts came, good.” He walked around the antique tractor, “What are you going to do when they stop making parts for it anymore, Dad?”
His dad looked at him in shock. Clark had spoken sacrilege—“there will *always* be parts for this make—it’s a classic.” He patted its bright red side. “Besides, kids like seeing the same kind of tractor that’s in their picture books when they come pumpkin picking,” he said with a fond smile. “I hate to disappoint them…”
“Mmm, okay. Sure. I guess it’s a good thing that Halloween’s so far away then…”
“Don’t humor me, mister,” his dad groused. Clark grinned and headed for the shed door, turned around, and grabbed his dad—hugged him hard and kissed him on the cheek.
His dad raised eyebrows high in surprise. “Wow—what did I do to rate that?”
Clark grinned and said, “Be you.”
******
Clark was in the cellar. It was dark and cool, but he was sweating. His hands were damp and a little shaky, it took him a try or two before he could pull the octagonal shaped metal piece from his pocket, and the phone Lex had given him. He put them both on a shelf against the cellar wall and looked across the space at the ship in the shadows.
He’d only looked at it once before, but he remembered vividly how it looked, how it felt under his hand…worn, scarred by its journey through space...almost alive. Clark stared at, working up the nerve to walk closer.
It felt like it was looking back…
He picked up the phone, put it down again, and walked around the ship, clutching the piece of metal in his hand—it was warmer. As he walked around the cellar, he could feel it heating up in his hand—it was actually beginning to be uncomfortable to hold. He glanced towards the shelf, took a step to the ship—and his phone rang. He snatched it up and whirled around; put his back to the ship.
“Hello,” he gasped into it.
“Clark—are you okay? You sound out of breath.”
“Lex! Lex…hi. When are you coming home?”
“Right to the point, then. That’s why I’m calling you—my trip was successful—very. I’m finishing up arrangements and then—I’ll be home. I missed you so much Clark. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I know, it feels like I haven’t seen you in—years. There’s something we have to talk about when you get here, something important. I love you, Lex-I love you more than anything in the world. Don’t ever think I don’t.”
“Me too, sweetheart…are you *sure* you’re okay? Clark?”
“I’m fine. Promise.”
“Hm. If you’re sure…hey, I wanted to wait until I got home to tell you this but I think perhaps you need to hear it now. I had that—that thing erased. It’s gone, like it never was.”
“Oh, Lex. I’m so glad. I’m so proud of you.” Clark closed his eyes; he felt a part of his spirit soar…he felt like a bit of himself had been freed. “That’s really good news, I’m glad you told me now.”
“I love you Clark.”
“See you when you get home, okay?” Clark hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket. He popped the piece of metal up and down on his palm, and came to a decision.
He wasn’t doing anything yet. Not without Lex. He was not taking a major step like this without his—his soul mate. He grinned, and blushed. God, it sounded corny in his own head--but that’s what Lex was to him, and he knew without a doubt that Lex felt the same way.
He poked around the shelves looking for something to put the octagon in. There were shelves of canned peaches, beans, tomatoes...there were empty bushel baskets stacked on one shelf, and next to them, washed and empty coffee cans, with their plastic lids intact…Mom *really* needed to learn how to relax, he thought. One of the coffee cans would make a perfect holder for the octagon--he grabbed a can—he could bury the thing under the ship….
He was a step away, and the metal started to heat again, rapidly becoming uncomfortable. At the same time, he was suddenly surrounded by a steadily escalating buzz of sound—it got louder and louder, he wasn’t sure if it was real or in his head. The metal piece shifted and rocked in his hand and flew out—straight for the ship, flew into an indentation shaped to fit it. It locked soundlessly in place.
Clark stumbled and fell backward; the ship rocked and rose from the floor, dust blowing from its sides. The pod sunk into the wedge shape was suddenly bisected by glowing lines—or maybe the pod was opening along those lines and the light was coming from inside— it was hard for him to see, his eyes were streaming from the acid bright glow. The edges of the wedge shapes lit up and looked like running lights on a runway, the fins on the top and bottom of the pod glowed as well. The ship tilted and turned towards him and this time, he was sure that it was…seeing him.
He scooted away, his boot heels dragging furrows in the dirt floor of the root cellar, a wind kicked up, swirled dust and dirt up into the air—the light grew—the ship tilted more, and focused on him…
Pain. The pain he felt was unbelievable—not even before being fixed had he felt anything like this—the pain of being fixed was a pale echo of this. It was like--being packed with glass shards from asshole to throat--the feeling grew to fill his legs, his arms, fingers, toes, felt like having a crowbar hammered between his joints and then the joints levered apart—
It grew and grew, and the entire time a voice shouted in his head, words tumbled and shrieked in his head—louder and louder—“Stop!” Clark yelled it again, “STOP!”
“I am…your father—“No!”—his will—“STOP IT”—his promise—“GET OUT”—guide you all the days of your life…
Kal-El, don’t fight me…”
That suddenly the pain stopped, like a door opening in his mind--he stepped through and it was…the very opposite of what he’d been feeling. The very opposite of pain filled him, lifted him, transformed him. The voice was soothing now, a beacon, a flare of warmth that he went to instead of fought against. He felt his eyes were closed—he opened them and….
I’m somewhere cold--standing on a rise, and I can see a plain that stretches all around me forever. In the distance a city’s towers rise up from the plain, silver and white and sapphire against a pink sky and a red sun hangs overhead, paints the patches of snow clinging to the grass pale pink as well.
I look at the city, the plain, hear the wind blowing through the stiff tall blades of grass, feel it blow gently against my face and it carries strange scents and sounds, strange and at the same time…familiar…“Krypton.” And I just—know. I know about Krypton, I know who I was before I was Clark Kent, I know about Mother and Father…
“We are his memory, his will. We are to fulfill his promise and guide you all the days
of your life. Last son of Krypton, you carry the hopes and dreams of your people. They live through you now, Kal-El.”
This is what the voice is saying in my head, and as I understand the words, I understand also I’m not in a place, I’m in a time—and then again, I’m not anywhere, and I’m on the floor of the cellar and I’m on a grassy field on Krypton and I can’t wake up--
The plain is swallowed in a bright white light, but this time, it’s warm as a mother’s embrace…the voice says, ‘it’s time, Kal-El. Time to learn—everything.’
And just like that, I’m not afraid anymore.
Brighter and brighter and brighter….I spread my arms like wings, let the light pull me upwards, let it fill me, cover me….
I’ll be back. I know I will. I have a destiny--we have a destiny, Lex and I. I take a deep breath and
jump into the light.
‘Lex...’
We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty. ~Maya Angelou
4-15-2007
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating:2
Summary: this is all there is of this AU, there ain’t no more
A big thank you to
danceswithgary, for holding my hand through crazy parts. Thanks also for providing the wonderful art for each section, it added so much to each new chapter, and they were as important as the words. A big thank you to
digitalwave for the absolutely beautiful art for the end of part one—This Is Where I Died Everytime I look at it, I get all watery. He worked through his chores, the whole time thinking about the piece of odd metal shoved in the back of his desk drawer. Maybe he should wait until Lex came home before he dealt with it…he wondered if he should talk to his parents…what would happen if he returned the piece of metal to the ship? Was it a key? An instruction book? What if it opened and he…changed form, from a human looking thing to a…Thing? What if it told him to take over the world—or god forbid—made him impregnate all the women with his alien sperm?
“Ick.” He shuddered, snorted at the image of himself running all over Smallville, trying to talk the girls into having sex with him…him lying back and thinking of--what—Alien Overlord and country? He snickered, until the thought that it was a very real possibility sobered him, and sighed.
Maybe he was just over-thinking it. Maybe all that happened would be as simple as an explanation why. Why his birthparents sent him away. Why he was the way he was.
He trudged back to the house to shower, thought, ‘what if…what if nothing happened?’
What then?
Back in the house, he showered and held a shouted conversation through the door with his sister, who demanded to know was he brushing his teeth—he had to open the door and show her a mouth full of foam. She followed him down the hallway, waited with philosophical resignation when the door was closed in her face. She sighed, and he could see her resting against the door, kicking her heel on the carpet as she continued the conversation they’d been having….
He dressed, let her in his room and then he had a lesson in how to brush his hair. He was pretty darn thankful to be invulnerable. He was certain an average human would have been knocked unconscious. He made her promise, in exchange for pancakes, not to brush Mom or Dad’s hair.
She thought that was pretty funny.
He made her heart-shaped pancakes, and dribbled syrup smiley faces across them. She looked at him in wonder. “You are a good cook, Clark. Just like Mommy. Will you make pancakes for Lex when he comes?”
“I’m sorry, kiddo, Lex isn’t coming today.”
Her face fell, and Clark wanted to hug her, he knew just how she felt. “I’m going to marry Lex,” she said. “He’s so pretty.”
“Really? You think so?” He grinned and put the mixing bowls and whisk in the sink, wrapped up and set aside pancakes for his mom and dad. He made himself a cup of coffee and turned back to Kala.
“Yes, when I’m all grown-up I will…you can marry him too, if you want. We can all be married together.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “Mommy and Daddy will have to get a new house. We’ll need this one.”
He choked a little, biting his lip hard to keep from laughing. Kala ignored his frantic efforts not to laugh or drown in coffee—she was chewing pancakes serenely, every inch the queen of the household. He poured a glass of milk for her, and kissed the top of her head.
“I love you, you know that?”
She nodded. Of course he did.
*****
They went out to the garden, and he spread a blanket on the grass, gave Kala her coloring books and crayons. His mom waved at him from the lettuce. “Thanks hon. Did she eat?”
He nodded and walked over to where she stood on the garden path. He stopped and just…looked at her until she laughed. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?”
He shook his head. “No…I just want you to know that I really love you. And I’m grateful you’re my mom.”
“Well! And I didn’t even make breakfast,” she said, and then stopped. “Clark…is something bothering you?” She stepped forward, wiping her hand across the back of one cheek, and smearing a little soil there.
“Nothing Mom, everything is fine—everything’s great,” he smiled, and wiped her cheek, gave her a little kiss. “Everything’s great, really.”
*******
“Dad?”
“Clark.” His dad was staring into the guts of an old tractor, a look on his face that promised mayhem if it didn’t come back to life, and soon. There were engine parts in a pan on the tractor shed floor, and his dad was mangling a rag in his hands.
“Having fun?” Clark asked, and his dad scowled at him…and then laughed.
“Yes. Darn tractor.” Clark looked over on the work bench, and saw an open shipping box.
“Ah, so the parts came, good.” He walked around the antique tractor, “What are you going to do when they stop making parts for it anymore, Dad?”
His dad looked at him in shock. Clark had spoken sacrilege—“there will *always* be parts for this make—it’s a classic.” He patted its bright red side. “Besides, kids like seeing the same kind of tractor that’s in their picture books when they come pumpkin picking,” he said with a fond smile. “I hate to disappoint them…”
“Mmm, okay. Sure. I guess it’s a good thing that Halloween’s so far away then…”
“Don’t humor me, mister,” his dad groused. Clark grinned and headed for the shed door, turned around, and grabbed his dad—hugged him hard and kissed him on the cheek.
His dad raised eyebrows high in surprise. “Wow—what did I do to rate that?”
Clark grinned and said, “Be you.”
******
Clark was in the cellar. It was dark and cool, but he was sweating. His hands were damp and a little shaky, it took him a try or two before he could pull the octagonal shaped metal piece from his pocket, and the phone Lex had given him. He put them both on a shelf against the cellar wall and looked across the space at the ship in the shadows.
He’d only looked at it once before, but he remembered vividly how it looked, how it felt under his hand…worn, scarred by its journey through space...almost alive. Clark stared at, working up the nerve to walk closer.
It felt like it was looking back…
He picked up the phone, put it down again, and walked around the ship, clutching the piece of metal in his hand—it was warmer. As he walked around the cellar, he could feel it heating up in his hand—it was actually beginning to be uncomfortable to hold. He glanced towards the shelf, took a step to the ship—and his phone rang. He snatched it up and whirled around; put his back to the ship.
“Hello,” he gasped into it.
“Clark—are you okay? You sound out of breath.”
“Lex! Lex…hi. When are you coming home?”
“Right to the point, then. That’s why I’m calling you—my trip was successful—very. I’m finishing up arrangements and then—I’ll be home. I missed you so much Clark. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I know, it feels like I haven’t seen you in—years. There’s something we have to talk about when you get here, something important. I love you, Lex-I love you more than anything in the world. Don’t ever think I don’t.”
“Me too, sweetheart…are you *sure* you’re okay? Clark?”
“I’m fine. Promise.”
“Hm. If you’re sure…hey, I wanted to wait until I got home to tell you this but I think perhaps you need to hear it now. I had that—that thing erased. It’s gone, like it never was.”
“Oh, Lex. I’m so glad. I’m so proud of you.” Clark closed his eyes; he felt a part of his spirit soar…he felt like a bit of himself had been freed. “That’s really good news, I’m glad you told me now.”
“I love you Clark.”
“See you when you get home, okay?” Clark hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket. He popped the piece of metal up and down on his palm, and came to a decision.
He wasn’t doing anything yet. Not without Lex. He was not taking a major step like this without his—his soul mate. He grinned, and blushed. God, it sounded corny in his own head--but that’s what Lex was to him, and he knew without a doubt that Lex felt the same way.
He poked around the shelves looking for something to put the octagon in. There were shelves of canned peaches, beans, tomatoes...there were empty bushel baskets stacked on one shelf, and next to them, washed and empty coffee cans, with their plastic lids intact…Mom *really* needed to learn how to relax, he thought. One of the coffee cans would make a perfect holder for the octagon--he grabbed a can—he could bury the thing under the ship….
He was a step away, and the metal started to heat again, rapidly becoming uncomfortable. At the same time, he was suddenly surrounded by a steadily escalating buzz of sound—it got louder and louder, he wasn’t sure if it was real or in his head. The metal piece shifted and rocked in his hand and flew out—straight for the ship, flew into an indentation shaped to fit it. It locked soundlessly in place.
Clark stumbled and fell backward; the ship rocked and rose from the floor, dust blowing from its sides. The pod sunk into the wedge shape was suddenly bisected by glowing lines—or maybe the pod was opening along those lines and the light was coming from inside— it was hard for him to see, his eyes were streaming from the acid bright glow. The edges of the wedge shapes lit up and looked like running lights on a runway, the fins on the top and bottom of the pod glowed as well. The ship tilted and turned towards him and this time, he was sure that it was…seeing him.
He scooted away, his boot heels dragging furrows in the dirt floor of the root cellar, a wind kicked up, swirled dust and dirt up into the air—the light grew—the ship tilted more, and focused on him…
Pain. The pain he felt was unbelievable—not even before being fixed had he felt anything like this—the pain of being fixed was a pale echo of this. It was like--being packed with glass shards from asshole to throat--the feeling grew to fill his legs, his arms, fingers, toes, felt like having a crowbar hammered between his joints and then the joints levered apart—
It grew and grew, and the entire time a voice shouted in his head, words tumbled and shrieked in his head—louder and louder—“Stop!” Clark yelled it again, “STOP!”
“I am…your father—“No!”—his will—“STOP IT”—his promise—“GET OUT”—guide you all the days of your life…
Kal-El, don’t fight me…”
That suddenly the pain stopped, like a door opening in his mind--he stepped through and it was…the very opposite of what he’d been feeling. The very opposite of pain filled him, lifted him, transformed him. The voice was soothing now, a beacon, a flare of warmth that he went to instead of fought against. He felt his eyes were closed—he opened them and….
I’m somewhere cold--standing on a rise, and I can see a plain that stretches all around me forever. In the distance a city’s towers rise up from the plain, silver and white and sapphire against a pink sky and a red sun hangs overhead, paints the patches of snow clinging to the grass pale pink as well.
I look at the city, the plain, hear the wind blowing through the stiff tall blades of grass, feel it blow gently against my face and it carries strange scents and sounds, strange and at the same time…familiar…“Krypton.” And I just—know. I know about Krypton, I know who I was before I was Clark Kent, I know about Mother and Father…
“We are his memory, his will. We are to fulfill his promise and guide you all the days
of your life. Last son of Krypton, you carry the hopes and dreams of your people. They live through you now, Kal-El.”
This is what the voice is saying in my head, and as I understand the words, I understand also I’m not in a place, I’m in a time—and then again, I’m not anywhere, and I’m on the floor of the cellar and I’m on a grassy field on Krypton and I can’t wake up--
The plain is swallowed in a bright white light, but this time, it’s warm as a mother’s embrace…the voice says, ‘it’s time, Kal-El. Time to learn—everything.’
And just like that, I’m not afraid anymore.
Brighter and brighter and brighter….I spread my arms like wings, let the light pull me upwards, let it fill me, cover me….
I’ll be back. I know I will. I have a destiny--we have a destiny, Lex and I. I take a deep breath and
jump into the light.
‘Lex...’
We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty. ~Maya Angelou
4-15-2007
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4/16/07 11:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/16/07 03:09 pm (UTC)